


Love In The Time of Spiders

by inheritanceofgeek



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Angst, Interspecies Romance, Other, Post-Battle of Five Armies, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-25 07:32:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7523971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inheritanceofgeek/pseuds/inheritanceofgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>12 Legs, 8 eyes but only one heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love In The Time of Spiders

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MagicMaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicMaker/gifts).



> Originally posted on Tumblr, now cross posted here too ^___^
> 
> #IWillGoDownWithThisShip
> 
> http://mrsmarymorstan.tumblr.com/tagged/goatlob

Inbarathrag was lost. He had no idea what had lead him towards Mordor, perhaps it was the loss of his kin? So had fallen on the battlefield, their numbers uncountable even to those creatures with a grasp of numeracy. To Inbarathrag, the thought of returning to the Blue Mountains without his brothers in hooves was just too much to take. So he wondered freely, traveling where no goat had gone before and it lead him to a road the locals called “Passage of the Spider”.

He had no idea what lay at the end of the tunnel, but he hoped it was nice things like grass and dandelions. 

Inbarathrag could not have been more wrong and yet still so right. 

It was her eyes he noticed first, all six of them. 

They glittered black as nightshade in the middle of her hairy face. By the Great Shepherd he’d never seen anything so beautiful. He coughed nervously, so as not to surprise her. She was busy spinning a web and it felt like all too an intimate act for him to just barge in on. But he knew he could not simply pass by this beauty and not say anything. 

Her beautiful shaggy head spun round and those onyx coloured eyes met with his and he thought his heart may have stopped beating. He bleated a short greeting to her, nervous and blushing at being the centre of her attention all of a sudden. 

She didn’t say anything in return, just slowly twitched a slender leg. He counted eight of them, far more than any goat and much hairier. Instead of hooves she had pointed stubs, marking her as something unique in this world. Why would such a beauty as she hide away in such a dismal cave?

He asked her this as she scuttled towards him, her teeth parting in quick succession. She spoke in a language he could not understand, but the way she moved indicated that she was interested in him, why else would she be so keen to great him head first?

She towered over him and he felt small and insignificant in her presence. He got the impression that she would keep him safe, that her monstrous size hid a heart of gold. She gently reached out a leg to stroke along him and he shivered. She was a lot more forward than any creature he’d courted in the past, but if that was her culture then so be it!

He took a hoof and copied her motions upon her leg. She jumped, startled by his own forward behaviour and backed away slightly, almost blushing beneath her thick fur. 

Ibarathrag smiled to himself, so confident and uncertain at the same time. He titled his head to the side and bleated gently. He would not hurt her. He would protect her heart and not let any more rogues in to destroy it. She smiled a pincer snapping smile and moved to the side, allowing him entrance into her lair. 

He clopped inside and stared around. She’d decorated it with silk drapes she’d created herself and Ibarathrag complimented her on her craftsmanship, even if she could not understand his words just yet. 

Years passed between them and in them they grew to know one another better than any beings ever could. It was a strange love. She a bloodthirsty carnivorous arachnid and he a vegetarian battle goat, but they made it work. They learnt each other’s language enough to understand one another, even if they did not posses the same vocal range to become fluent. They’d defied expectation in every aspect of their relationship so far so why not do it again with language?

As time went on, Ibarathrag aged but Shelob did not. A day came where he had barely any life left in him. He looked into Shelob’s eyes as he lay breathing heavily on the bed of silk she’d made for him. He nuzzled his head along her cheek and bleated softly at her. He was a battle goat of the mountains, he did not want to die of old age. He wanted to die in a fight of a wound not of this feeble bodied weakness. With tears in her many eyes, she nodded her understanding. 

With a swift move she stabbed him in the heart and Ibarathrag felt her poison over take him and smiled. Dying in battle was so much more satisfying when it was at the pincers of love rather than the blade of hate. Shelob stood and wept over his limp body, wrapping him in the most delicate of silks. 

She knew she would have to suck him of his lifeblood later on, as would be his wish, but for now she could not bring herself to do it. The love of her life was dead. She needed to grieve for him, and the only way to do that was to go out and hunt some orc.

 


End file.
